


Get Well Soon

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Epistolary, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3266042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky receives a "get well soon" letter from an old friend.</p>
<p>(references to past Starsky/FC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Well Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as [a drabble](http://me-and-thee-100.livejournal.com/574157.html) for the LJ me_and_thee_100 comm "Dear Starsky..." challenge, but I needed more than 100 words to get to where I wanted to be.

_Dear David,_

_Oh my God, I just heard about what happened to you. I'm so sorry, it takes forever for news from the States to reach us here. I don't have any of the details, though, just that you were shot. Daddy tried to find out more but he wasn't able to learn anything._

_I wish I could be there at your side, but I can't. I hope you can forgive me. Maybe someday.... Meanwhile, I'll be thinking about you and praying for your complete recovery._

_All my love,  
R_

  

Starsky stared at the words, written in a hand that was only vaguely familiar. Their time together had been intense but very brief, after all.

"What's that?" Hutch asked absently, absorbed in his own mail.

"A 'get well soon' letter from an old friend," Starsky replied.

"Too late," Hutch said jokingly, but with no small amount of pride and satisfaction. "You already are."

"I am," Starsky agreed, well satisfied himself, and deeply content. He _was_ almost fully recovered, due in large part to the one who'd been at his side all along. The one who really loved him. 

Starsky's life hadn't turned out at all as he had imagined it, but as long as he had Hutch, it didn't matter. He was living his "happily ever after"—there was no maybe about that.

He glanced once more at the letter, the memories of a love lost bringing no pain or heartache, only a fond smile to his lips.

_I hope you get your own fairy tale someday, Rosey._

Without regret, Starsky crumpled the note and threw it away.


End file.
